


Fellows Will Fall in Line (Remix)

by ERMERGERG (AnAngryRat)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngryRat/pseuds/ERMERGERG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is dealing with the emotional stuff really well. Or so he tells himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fellows Will Fall in Line (Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inksheddings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fellows Will Fall in Line](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/49631) by inksheddings. 



Stiles is curled up the living room couch on his eighth cup of coffee and twenty-sixth episode of Archer in a row after watching all of House of Cards and the sixth season of Buffy, when a knock on the door startled him out of his trance. He struggled up from his cocoon of blankets and books to stumble toward the door. He winced when the sunlight broke through his vision blinking rapidly to see the figure standing there.

“Scott,” he croaked in surprise flinching at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t heard it in days.

“Hey, Stiles,” Scott answered a sad look taking over his face. Stiles rubbed his eyes stepping aside to let Scott in.

“Didn’t expect you thought you were out with your mom today,” Stiles explained slinking towards the kitchen Scott in tow. He rummaged through the cupboards looking for something to eat since he’s pretty sure he hadn’t eaten since...since. 

“Stiles,” Scott said in his business voice bringing Stiles out of the cupboards for a second. “One,” he listed counting on his fingers, “moms day out was two days ago.” Stiles swallowed. Things are always worse when he loses track of time on a days to week scale. “Two: you haven’t text, called, emailed, posted on facebook, or skyped in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Well, I was busy watching Netflix,” Stiles felt the need to say. Scott cut off any further explanations with a withering look.

“Three: moms worried about you and so am I. What’s going on with you dude?”

Stiles took a deep breath turned towards the cupboards. His dad had left to Sacramento for some seminar on how to catch serial killers, leaving Stiles alone for a week. He had previously been sleeping in his dad’s bed because it was the only time he felt safe enough from his own mind to actually sleep. Now that he’s gone Stiles had been handling his absence by not pulling research binges and delving himself into manmade melodramas. It didn’t help that the little part of his mind he had been smothering before and after the nogitsune decided to mind fuck him told him that the sheriff left him because he couldn’t stand to be around a murderer anymore. Stiles lays his head on the shelf of the cupboard, controlling his breathing and heart rate before pulling out some Mac n’ Cheese boxes. 

“How ‘bout we discuss whatever,” Stiles has to force himself to say it because Scott would be disappointed in him if he said an almost truth or a lie and Stiles can’t handle another sad puppyish look at the moment, “is wrong with me with some macaroni and orange food coloring.”

He waved the packages with a large plastered grin. Scott nodded and reached for the pan. Stiles slapped his hand and grabbed a pot filling it with water. Scott smacked him back and then it pretty much degraded into a slap fight while Stiles tried unsuccessfully to get the pot from the sink to the stove without spilling it. Stiles won after kneeing Scott in the balls (accidentally of course) and quickly set the pot on the stove to boil. Scott retaliated with a light smack in the back of the head one last gesture before the battle ended.

The room became comfortably quiet for maybe two seconds before Stiles started to itch for conversation.

“How’s Kira,” he asked pulling at his too long hair. He wanted to shave it so badly but still hadn’t found the time, so it just hung loosely over his face. Scott’s eyebrow’s rose at the stilted question.

“In Japan reconnecting with her fathers relatives.” Stiles nodded his head listening.

“That’s a pretty awesome way to spend the Christmas break,” he responded. A heavy silence replaced the old one after that. The water boiled and Stiles absently added the macaroni.

“When did it become so hard,” Scott said vaguely. Stiles tensed.

“Somewhere between getting kidnapped and beaten and having something rape my mind for a month, so I’d say probably when Derek’s ex-girlfriend numero dos, stole our parents and we permanently tied our happiness to a pissed off tree.”

Scott flinched at the words.

“It’s been a rough year,” he said softly. Stiles banged his head against the cupboard repeatedly, accentuating each word with another hit, “Biggest understatement of the year.”

“Did the heaviness get worse for you when Allison died,” Scott asked changing subjects from bad to worse. Stiles turned towards him his eye twitching involuntarily.

“Wouldn’t know, Scotty, considering I’m still in the no man’s land of guilt over killing a good chunk of the population of Beacon Hills. Maybe it’s making it worse, maybe it’s gone completely, or maybe just maybe I’m so fucked up I can’t tell the difference anymore,” Stiles exploded. 

“That wasn’t you,” Scott soothed ever calm to Stiles increasing hysteria. Stiles wanted to punch him. That is probably the one thing he’s heard at least fifty bagillion times from everyone including Scott. It’s like the ‘My condolences’ at his mother’s funeral, good intentions but repeating it isn’t going to help the emptiness of her loss. 

“Irrelevant,” Stiles shot back after a long time contemplating whether or not to kill Scott and if he did would it then, be his fault or his inevitable mental breakdown that did it. Stiles turned his back towards him. He pulls out a strainer and dumps the macaroni in it before grabbing milk and butter and just dumping it in by eye adding the flavor packets last along with the macaroni. He was stirring it all together getting lost in the motion when he hears Scott shout from the living room.

“Holy shit! Why the fuck have you been watching so many WWII documentaries and possession films?”

Stiles winced, of course Scott would check his Netflix history, maybe he wouldn’t see the notes he took stuffed into his blanket cocoon. There’s some ruffling a clinking of porcelain, probably all of the coffee cups, and then, “Aw, shit, Stiles.”

Stiles distributed the mac n’ cheese into bowls while answering back, “I was watching the last episode of season two Archer before you got here!”

He turned into the living room. Scott snatched his bowl and took a large mouthful while asking “And how many did you watch before you got there?”  
Stiles face twisted in disgust before shoving his face full and taking his time answering the question.

“The very first episode of course,” he said nose in the air not ashamed at all. Scott rolled his eyes exasperated. “When was the last time you slept Stiles?”

Stiles looked sheepishly up at him.

“Last week? Maybe? How longs my dad been out?”

Scott gives him another sad eyed look that’s more comical rather than sad with his cheeks puffed out with food. Stiles giggled.

“He’s been at the conference for five days,” Scott answered after swallowing. His eyebrows scrunch as though he’s contemplating something difficult. Stiles hit play on Archer and continued talking over him.

“I’ve been sleeping his bed recently because if I become suddenly homicidal again, he could, stop me.” He doesn’t say ‘kill me’ but Scott hears it anyway making a pained noise. “I don’t do it often though because the whole screaming nightmares aren’t very good for his sleep patterns and well he needs his sleep since I killed a majority of his staff six months after some other serial killer got the other half of the BHPD.”

Scott’s eyebrows are still furrowed as Stiles chuckled his way through the episode, making comments here and there.

Three bowls of mac n’ cheese later and two episodes of Archer Scotts relaxed enough to actually comment and bitch with Stiles and it seems almost normal. When the sky fell dark they were piled on top of each other talking about everything and stopping every once and awhile to lose it over something Pam said. 

Scott, whose head was sleepily on top of Stiles, gave a large yawn popping his uneven jaw. Stiles swallowed thickly he knew Scott needed sleep, he needed sleep, but that meant night terrors and violence. 

“So,” Stiles started.

“Think I can stay the night,” Scott asked casually over him snuggling in deeper to their blanket cocoon letting his eyelids droop. Stiles followed him in nodded his head and felt comforted that Scott knew the danger and stayed anyway because that’s what Scott does. 

They both knocked out an hour later and it was blessedly peaceful.


End file.
